


Not Alone

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Challenge Response, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 20:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14316114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: When Daryl returns from his mission to track down his brother and Michonne, he shuts himself away to deal with his grief and wallow in his misery, until the reader stumbles across him and lets him know that he’s not as alone as he might feel.





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for @thewalkingdead-imagines ‘5K Followers Writing Challenge’ on Tumblr. My prompt was ‘How long have you been standing there?’ and it’s my usual mix of fluff and, of course, angst!

The sun was sinking low in the sky when you noticed the archer up in the guard tower in the far corner of the prison complex, a solitary shadow against the horizon, a single twist of smoke snaking upwards from his position perched on the edge of the platform.  You hadn’t even known he was back, having watched in desperation as he flew out of the gates earlier that day in pursuit of his brother and Michonne, fighting to save the woman’s life and stop Merle from doing something stupid.  You’d wanted to go with him, to follow behind in the hope that you’d be able to catch up and help, but Rick had held you back, unwilling to risk two of his people to help someone that was essentially a stranger. He didn’t care for Merle, you knew, never had done and you couldn’t blame him, but you worried for the younger Dixon.  He was softer than his brother, kinder, and you’d found yourself drawn to him since he’d started to come out of his tough, redneck shell.

Picking your way across the grass, you expected him to sense your movement, to turn his head to follow your approach, but he remained oblivious, and by the time you reached the foot of the stairs, you could hear his gut-wrenching sobs from up above. Climbing slowly upwards, one step at a time, you were unsure whether to announce yourself, embarrassed by catching him at his most vulnerable, and when you reached the top you had to cover your mouth with your hand to hold back the gasp that threatened to erupt from your throat. The first thing you noticed were his hands, coated in blood, sticky and congealing, thin lines of it trailing down his forearm and pooling in the crook of his elbow.  His whole frame was hunched over, his knees drawn up to his chest, as he shook with the force of his misery, and, as you watched, he brought the lit end of his cigarette down and held it against the tanned skin of his wrist.  The sizzle of burning flesh made you whimper, alerting him to your presence, and he was on his feet in an instant, dropping his smoke to the ground and grinding it beneath his heel as he scrubbed ashamedly at his face with the back of his hands, leaving his cheeks smeared with red.  

His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his hair tousled as though he’d been fisting it between his fingers as he cried, and you found yourself reaching out to him, but he was backing away like a cornered animal, his words coming out as a feral snarl.

**‘How long have you been standing there?’**

‘Not long,’ you reassured him.  ‘Just a couple of minutes.  I was worried about you.’

‘Ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me. I’m fine.’

‘I can see that.’  You took a deep breath and moved forwards, though you made no attempt to touch him again, dropping to the floor and letting your legs dangle over the edge of the tower, the guard rail cool as you rested your arms against it, surveying the treeline as you waited.  You didn’t look at him, didn’t speak, and eventually, just like a cornered animal, he took a step towards you, and another, before sinking down beside you, though his body remained tense, the muscles in his arms defined and twitching as he clenched and unclenched his fists.  You’d bet if you looked at him, he’d be gnawing on his bottom lip, but you didn’t dare.  You forced yourself to stay focused on the view and waited for him to start talking.

‘Merle’s dead.’

You hadn’t expected that, and once again you had to stifle a gasp and clasp your fingers together as they itched to lace with his.  

‘He’d already let ‘Chonne go when I found ‘im.  Can’t say for sure, but it looked like he’d decided t’ do the right thing, thin the Governor’s army a lil’.  They’d shot ‘im in the chest, but they didn’ bother t’ take his brain out.  Left him for me like some sorta fucked-up Christmas gift.  All that was missin’ was the damn bow.’

You risked a glance towards him and saw that his face was calm, resigned, despite the tears that were streaming down his cheeks, tiny droplets catching in his scruff and glistening in the last rays of daylight.  

‘I had t’ do it.  I had t’ take him out, but…  Once I started, I couldn’ stop.  I jus’… I kept thinkin’ ‘bout all the times he ripped into me, ‘bout how he left me with our Dad even though he knew what the bastard was like.  The only time my brother ever did anythin’ right for me my whole life was the day he died.’

Finally you spoke, unable to hold back your curiosity any longer.  ‘Then why are you crying for him, Daryl?  He isn’t worth your tears.’

You watched the shock that flashed over his features, saw him processing your words and considering them before he replied.  ‘He was my brother.’

‘So?’

‘So, he was the only fam’ly I had left.’

‘We’re your family now, Daryl.’  Sensing that some of his tension was starting to ebb away, you allowed your hand to slide along the bar towards his, resting it on top of his cracked, dusty knuckles and giving him a sad smile when he linked his fingers through yours.

‘Y’ain’t blood though.’

‘No, we’re not.  We’re so much more than that.  We’re fighting for our lives, and giving up the last can of beans for the person that’s struggling even though you’re so hungry you can’t think straight. We’re endless days on the road, just walking, and keeping each other going, despite the fact that we don’t have a damn clue where we’re walking to.  We’re long, cold nights where you think it’s only the body curled up beside you that’s stopping you from freezing to death where you lay.’

His eyes were locked on yours as you spoke, and you could see him absorbing what you were trying to tell him, nodding slowly as you continued.  ‘We’re friendship, and trust, and loyalty, and respect.  That’s what family is.  It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with blood.’

Silence fell between you, and you thought maybe he needed more space, about to lever yourself to your feet and retreat back to the cellblock, when his grip on your hand tightened.  ‘Yer right. I know yer right.  But…’

‘But what?’

‘I dunno.  I jus’ feel… alone, I guess.’

‘You aren’t alone, Daryl, I promise you.’

‘But I ain’t got no one. No one tha’s jus’ mine.’

‘You’ve got me,’ you insisted, shifting closer and leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling him tense instinctively at your touch before letting himself relax.

‘Y’ain’t jus’ mine though, Y/N.  Yer kinda e’ryone’s.’

‘Maybe,’ you agreed, before glancing up at him, trying to gauge his reaction to the next words out of your mouth.  ‘But not like I’m yours.’

Again, he fell silent, and again you worried that he wanted you to leave, though he didn’t relinquish his clasp on your fingers or make any move to shrug you off where you rested against him.  When he eventually spoke, you could hear the emotion in his voice, part confusion, part relief, and part something else that you couldn’t decipher.

‘Yer really mine?’

‘If you’ll have me.’

‘Always.’

You knew it wasn’t the time, that he was grieving, and that there was a battle coming, and that life wasn’t meant for falling in love anymore.  But his soft rasp gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, this was a beginning as well as an end.


End file.
